


Formaldehyde Perfume

by Missy



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Bittersweet, Character Study, Dark, Frankenstein Allusions, Gen, Ghosts, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Character Death, LITERALLY, Making Friends, Minor Character Death, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Post-Canon, Summoning, Taxidermy, Trick or Treat: Trick, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16093781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: If society won't come to her, then she will make her own friends.





	Formaldehyde Perfume

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arithanas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/gifts).



They had a tendency to point and laugh when she walked down the street. Her dress was black; her stockings still blacker, her hair one long thick black braid tied with a dark black ribbon. Her demeanor was eternally calm, to cover her quest for vengeance.

She was the last of her kind, technically. Pugsley had disappeared on a cursed holiday to the Bermuda Triangle, and her parents had responded by retreating into themselves – almost desperate in their smothering. But she had wanted freedom, and found herself in Salem, attending college, where she understood her kind flourished.

Her understanding had been drastically incorrect.

The rejection mounted in her chest like a pile of stones. Bitterly, she realized then that there was but one solution.

If society would not come to her welcomingly, then she would drag society to her.

 

*** 

It didn’t take her a lot of work to give birth to the beast. She was a creative sort, and thus didn’t take very long to gather together the parts from specimens and crypts around the school. Her stitches were careful and even, to allow for maximum flexibility, just like her mother had taught her.

Wednesday sat back and admired her creation. If it in the end it had two more eyes and one less tooth than a normal human face might, if its form was lopsided and its hair came in several different shades and grew like a lion’s mane around its head, then it was the result of a labor of creative love that no mere mortal could ever understand or comprehend.

She pitied them, truly. What did they know about friendship in their judgment?

An injection of adrenaline caused it to start to life, its filmy grey eyes focusing in wonder upon hers.

She steadied her voice deliberately. “I am Wednesday,” she said, her voice firm. “I will rule you pitilessly.”

The creature lowed at the depth of its throat and leaned into her ectoplasm-coated hand.


End file.
